Michaels
by Maritiarty
Summary: The darkly delicious story of Lance McClain, a brainy, beautiful teenage misfit who hustles his way into the most powerful and ruthless clique at Westerberg High: the Michaels. But before he can get comfortable atop the high school food chain, Lance falls in love with the dangerously sexy new kid Keith. When Michael Chandler, the Almighty, kicks him out of the group, Lance decides
1. Chapter 1

_September 1, 2017_

 _Dear Diary,_

 _I believe I am a good person. You know, I think there's good in everyone. But here we are. Senior year! And uh, I look around at these kids I've know all my life and ask myself, "What happened?"_

* * *

Lance McClain sighed and tried to make his way to his locker before a broad shoulder smacked right into him making him cry out, and glare.

"Ugh! Oh, sorry!" The poor Cuban boy squeaked once meeting the burning glare of an unknown jock.

He quickly shimmied through the multiple bodies crowding the hallways of Westerberg High to finally get to his locker only to trip a poor kid on his way to first period.

"Ow!"

"Hey are you okay?"

"Get away, nerd!"

"Oh-okay."

Lance sighed and got his camera out for the stupid yearbook club he was in, not noticing the hulking figure bustling his way till said figure knocked into him, knocking all the papers to the floor. It was a miracle his camera didn't go flying as well.

"Ooooops." A deep mocking tone droned out.

Looking up Lance saw the large yet beautiful, not that he would say that from fear of being verbally and physically shanked, Takashi Shirogane. Third year as quarterback, and eighth year of smacking lunch trays, and being a huge dick.

"What did you say to me _freak_?"

Lance winced, he must have said that last part out loud.

"Aaah! Nothing!" Lance flinched away from the raised fist and ducked under one of his arms, hurrying to the lunchroom.

The cafeteria was packed as usual with your typically geeks, freaks, and jocks- all separate of course, they wouldn't dare sit anywhere the other might even breath near them. Lance quickly spotted the one person in this hell that made him feel human.

Hunk Garrett, his best friend since diapers.

"Hey Lance."

"We on for a movie night?"

"Yeah, but you're on soda detail." Lance commented, sitting his stuff on their table far in the back.

"I rented The Princess Bride." Hunk said, excitement clear in his eyes.

"Oooh, again? Wait, don't you have it memorized by now?" Lance asked, amusement clear.

"What can I say, I'm a sucker for happy endings." Hunk said with a shrug before putting more chocolate pudding in his mouth.

"Hunk Gayrett! Wide load! Ha! Hahaaa!" Kurt Kelly, lineman. He's the smartest guy, save Takashi, on the football team, which is kinda like being the tallest dwarf.

Kurt howled with laughter some more and knocked Hunk's stuff off the table.

"Hey! Pick that up! Right now." Lance shouted making the guy turn around with fake confusion.

"I'm sorry, are you actually talking to me?"

"Are you deaf? I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on my friend? You're a high school Pendejo, you'll probably never amount to anything more than a future gas station attendant."

Kurt glared fiercely at Lance before smirking, "You have a zit right there."

The lunchroom erupted with laughter like Kurt has just said the funniest joke ever made, but Lance still flushed red with embarrassment and picked up his shit, running from the lunch room to the restroom to check and see if he did indeed have a zit on his face. Though it was highly unlikely with all the products he put on his skin to make it shine.

 _Dear Diary,_

 _Why do they **hate me**?_

 _Why don't I **fight back**?_

 _Why do I **act like such a creep**?_

 _Why won't he **date me**?_

 _Why did I **hit him**?_

 _Why do I **cry myself to sleep**?_

 _Somebody **hug me**!_

 _Somebody **fix me**!_

 _Somebody **save me**!_

 _Send me a sign, **God**!_

 _Give me some **hope** here!_

 _Something to **live** for!_

Tears rolled down the Cuban boy's face as he looked at the mirror to find an invisible zit when he heard the restroom door open. Lance quickly ran into a stall door to not face anymore mockery when heavy footfalls led to the stall door next to him, sounds of disgusting vomiting filled the room. Lance, concerned opened the door and quickly wiped his face to open the stall only to flinch at the sight of Michael Duke.

The thing is at Westerberg High, you do not fuck with the Michaels. They are top of the literal food chain. They all have the same name Michael and are insanely popular.

Michael McNamara, Head cheerleader - even though he's a guy, he's just that girl. He can do a kick up to his ears. His dad is loaded, he sells engagement rings.

Michael Duke, runs the yearbook. No discernible personality - but his mom did pay for breast implants.

And Michael Chandler, the almighty; you might as well call him God himself.

 _He is a mythic dick._

They are solid Teflon, never bothered, never harassed. Lance would give anything to be like that.

Which is why he needed to leave before they knew a freak was among the perfects.

"Grow up Michael. Bulimia is so '09." Came a voice from behind him, Lance snapped his head to the side to see God himself. Michael Chandler was looking at his phone with a bored look, not noticing Lance awkwardly gaping at him. Now would be the perfect time to-

"Maybe you should see a doctor Michael," came another voice, Michael number #3 had arrived.

"Yeah, Michael. Maybe I should." Michael Duke mumbled from inside the stall.

Clacking heels made Michael Chandler tuck his phone away before looking up and finally noticing Lance.

"Um..."

"Ah! Michael, Michael-"

Michael Duke vomited noisily again, making Principal Allura Altean blanch.

"...and Michael. Perhaps you didn't hear the bell over all the vomiting. You're late for class."

"Michael wasn't feeling well, we're helping him." Michael Chandler said innocently.

"Not without a hall pass you're not. Week's detention." Allura said coldly, before opening her pen to write down their detention on her clipboard.

"Um, actually Mrs. Altean..." Lance spoke up for the first time, making all three - minus Duke who was still vomiting - snap towards him.

"All four of us are out on hall pass. Yearbook committee." Lance fished out his pass, he had added all three Michael's name to it when Mrs. Altean had mentioned detention.

Mrs. Altean took the pass and expected it thoroughly then grudgingly gave it back. "I see you're all listed. Hurry up and get where you're going." Mrs. Altean quickly left the room.

Michael Chandler snatched the pass and look at it with raised eyebrows, "This is an excellent forgery. Who are you?"

"Uh, Lance. McClain. I crave a boon."

"What kind of boon?" Michael Chandler said through narrow eyes.

Lance blinked before fumbling through his request, "Um, Let me sit at your table, at lunch, j-just once. No talking necessary! If people think that you guys tolerate me, then they'll leave me alone..."

All three Michael laughed, Lance quickly butted in before they said no outright.

"Before you answer, I also do report cards, permission slips, and absence notes."

"How about prescriptions?" Michael Duke asked before throwing up once more.

"Shut up Michael!" Michael Chandler snapped making the other apologize and throw up one more time before flushing and stepping out shakily.

"For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure...and a great complexion. What products do you use?"

"And a symmetrical face!" Michael McNamara supplied hurriedly to get in on the conversation.

"If I took a meat clever down the center of your skull, I'd have matching halves. That's very important."

Lance blinked at that, Michael Chandler began circling Lance taking in his clothes and body.

"Of course you could stand to lose a few pounds, and you know...style your hair a little more..maybe a haircut, some nicer clothes...you could be rather beautiful."

Lance blushed furiously at that and looked at the ground bashfully. Michael Chandler touched Lance's chin with one finger to make him took up then to the left, then right.

"Alright, let's make him beautiful."

* * *

"Whoa, who's that with Michael?"

The normally three group had an extra person. His bronze skin shimmered and practically sparkled with freckles that dusted his cheeks and nose. His bright blue eyes like sapphires, a dark green beanie on op of his head with a few brown strands poking out, he wore a long-sleeved v-neck shirt with a dark grey flannel with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, maroon skinny jeans with a few holes in them, and dark blue converse.

"L-Lance?" Hunk gasped looking at his re-formed best friend who smiled cheekily at him as he passed by.

* * *

 **TRANSLATE:**

 **Pendejo - Jackass / Asshole**


	2. Chapter 2

_Dear Diary,_

 _It's been three weeks since I became friends with the Michaels._

 _Well, it's actually like they're people I work with and our job is being popular and shit._

* * *

Lance bit his lip, looking at the new outfit Michael Chandler had assigned him to wear. A long sleeved sweater that hung off his shoulders in a flattering way, Michael Duke said the color was 'old lace' or something, Lance thought it was beige. To go with the sweater was short blue jean shorts and cream colored tights. To finish it off was a pair of black flats and his round glasses on, forgoing contacts for the day. Michael Chandler said that Lance could pull off the glasses in a cute but sexy way with the right outfits.

Lance had always wanted to wear clothes like these, but was terrified of getting his teeth knocked out. But now that he was in the Michaels, he could wear whatever he wanted, as long as Michael was okay with it, he even got a few wandering gazes from girls and guys alike!

"Hey Lance!"

Turning around Lance smiled at the sight of Hunk running over, wearing his signature orange bandanna around his head and his usual big sweater and scruffy blue jeans.

"Hey man,"

"You...you really look nice these days y'know?" Hunk said shyly, rubbing the back of his head.

Lance smiled at him reassuringly, "Thanks man, but you know it's still me under all this."

Hunk smiled weakly and picked at one of his book covers, "Are you sure?"

Lance frowned, "Hey, I'm really sorry I flaked on movie night-"

"No, no! It's fine I totally get it! You're...you're with the Michaels now. That's amazing!"

"I know right!" they both giggled.

"Lance!" came a voice right behind the two, making both jump and see Michael Duke standing behind them, he was giving Hunk an unimpressed look.

"Michael says to get your ass over to the table pronto."

"O-Okay." Lance nodded and watched Duke walk back over to the large table in the middle of the lunch room where the other two Michaels were seated, glaring over at the two friends.

Lance waved goodbye to Hunk awkwardly before getting 'his ass' over to the annoyed Michael Chandler.

"What's up Michael?" Lance inquired, a little fearfully.

"Lance, I need you to forge Shiro's handwriting." Lance nodded and pulled out some paper.

"You need something to write on, Michael bend over." Chandler continued looking at Duke.

Lance frowned but walked over to the now bent over Michael Duke, even though they were right next to a table.

"'Hey, I've been watching you and thinking about us in the old days. I hope you can come over to my homecoming party this weekend. I miss you. - Shiro' Oh! put an 'xo' after the signature." Lance finished the note and handed the note to Michael who smirked evilly at it.

"Who's that for anyway?" Lance questioned, putting away his notes and looking at Chandler.

"I just found out that Shiro used to hang out with Hunk Garrett."

Inwardly apologizing to hunk for talking about him behind his back, Lance chuckled, "Well yeah, we all did."

"Yeah maybe, but we didn't kiss on the football field." Duke said impishly.

"Oh that's right! Shiro kissed Hunk in kindergarten. It was disgusting!" McNamara chimed in, flipping through his contacts on his bright lemon-yellow smart phone.

"Perfect," Michael Chandler said, finished looking over the note. Over a few feet away two loud voice could be heard.

"Dude, it would be so righteous to be in the middle of a Michael Chandler and Lance McClain make out." Kurt declared to a nodding Shiro, who looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Shiro!" Michael Chandler called over, curling one finger in a 'come-here' motion. Shiro almost flew over to the four, smirking at the group. Lance blushed and looked away.

"Be a dear and give this note to Hunk Garret for me?" Shiro's eyes dimmed for a second before taking the note.

"What? No." Lance said and reached for the note only for Shiro to walk away and ask, "Why do you talk to that lard ass?"

Lance bristled, Shiro started to open the note.

"Oh don't read it!" Michael Chandler said, "He's having problems with having an orgasm and wanted some tips from me." Shiro blanched before throwing the note far away. "Gross."

Lance quickly snatch the note from the ground, only to have it ripped away.

"What are you doing?!" Lance demanded, glaring at Michael Chandler who only raise a perfect manicure eyebrow at the hostile tone.

"What?" Michael Duke said rolling his eyes,"It'll give him jack-off material for a week."

"Shut up Michael!" Lance snapped.

"Sorry Michael!"

An awkward silence followed.

Lance blinked before shaking his head and looking at Michael Chandler, "Hunk has had a thing for Shiro for years now okay? This would kill him!"

Michael Chandler turned into a wrathful god in four seconds.

"Are we gonna have a problem?"

Lance paled dramatically, "N-No! I'm-!"

"You've come so far, why now are you pulling on my dick?!" Chandler walked right up to the now shaking Cuban.

"I'd normally slap your face so hard it would fly clear off your fucking skull." Chandler suddenly smirked.

"But I'm feeling nice today, so hear's some advice, listen closely byotch."

"If you can't handle throwing a little shade then get the fuck out of my face. I gave you decent clothes, a haircut, and most importantly, a chance. Other people would kill to have you're spot. Don't make me regret putting all my hard work to shit. You were a greasy little freak that wore space shit and had no life. You could be that person again with the snap of my fingers. Now are you going to go back to being a tormented little nobody who will eventually cut their wrists and rot in hell? Or are you going to give me that fucking note? Choose wisely McClain."

Lance looked down and shakily handed the note to Chandler.

Michael Chandler suddenly smiled, "Good. Now sit back and watch the show, don't you fucking dare look away for even a second." He slowly walked around the lunchroom not looking at the smiling form of Hunk Garret who was enjoying his fourth pudding cup. He turned away for moment, and the note was dropped soundlessly and Michael Chandler disappeared smoothly without a trace.

Lance watch miserably as his best friend looked down and noticed the small note, he turned and looked around before opening it cautiously - probably expecting a hate note. Lance really wished it was. Hunk slowly read the note, his face turning more red each passing moment, before a small smile appeared on his face. Lance felt like throwing up.

Michael Chandler smirked and walked out of the lunch room, the other two following.

Lance looked down at his lunch plate with a blank face and jumped when Hunk's excited whisper made him look up in surprise.

"Lance look! Shiro invited me to his party! Can you believe it?! Maybe he does remember!"

Lance looked at Hunk with a somber face before throwing on his fake smile, "That's great man."

Hunk smiled, one of real smiles, with all his teeth out and eyes closed. "I'm so happy!"

Lance watched Hunk run off and felt like crying. Was this what it would take to be popular? To crush his best friend's heart? Was it worth it?

The lunch room filled up as more people rushed in, it was chili dog day, Lance dumped his trash and sat down at a lone table, cradling his head in his hands.

"You really shouldn't have bowed down to the swatch dogs and diet coke heads. They're gonna crush that guy." A deep voice called out.

Lance glanced up an saw a ridiculously hot guy looking down at him. He wore a long black tench coat, dark gray tee, black jeans and dark brown combat boots. His hair style threw Lance for a second, it was a freaking mullet, but it actually looked good on him.

"What?" Lance asked confused, and a little distracted by the good looks.

"You've clearly got a soul, you just need to work hard on keeping it clean. 'We are all born marked for evil.'" The mystery-mullet man turned and walked away.

Lance looked at him bewildered, "Okay, don't just quote Baudelaire at me and then walk away." Lance called out, standing up. "I didn't catch your name."

The guy turned and smirked in an unfairly sexy way, "I didn't throw it." Lance's jaw dropped.

The guy chuckled and winked, making Lance notice violet eyes, before going back to a table in the back and started reading from a small black book.

Lance's face flushed deep red before he smiled and bit his lip and looked down at his notebook.

Kurt and Shiro had somehow seen this whole interaction and was weirdly jealous.

"Man, who does that guy with the bad haircut think he is anyway, Bruce Lee?" Kurt complained loudly, glaring at mystery guy.

"Lance is into his act no doubt." Shiro commented, looking blankly at Kurt.

"Let's kick his ass!" Kurt declared loudly.

Shiro shook his head in negative, "Nah, we're seniors man. We're too old for that shit."

But Kurt just walked over to the table where the guy was sitting, reading his book and slammed a hand down on the table. Mystery man looked up slightly.

"Hey sweetheart! What did your boyfriend say when you told him you were moving to Sherwood, Ohio?"

Shiro sighed before also smacking the table loudly, "My buddy Kurt just asked you a question."

Kurt smirked at Shiro, "Hey Shiro, doesn't the cafeteria have a no fags allowed rule?"

This whole conversation was completely hypocritical. They were bulling the guy for being gay while also being interested in a guy, Lance and the Michaels.

The new kid slapped his book shut and smiled charmingly at the two football players.

"They seem to have an open door policy for assholes though."

Kurt looked at Shiro, "Hold his arms."

The guy just smirked and kicked the table out, catching the two in the gut.

Lance looked up just in time to see the mystery man, he really needed to find out his name soon, smack his black book into Kurt's face harshly.

"Holy shit!" Basically the entire cafeteria populace's thought on the matter.

M.M. (mullet man) kicked Shiro sharply in the groin, making Lance wince in sympathy, and punch a sneaking Kurt in the face and gut twice.

Now Lance had seen his fair share of school fights, they happened daily for no reason at all, but none had ever made Lance's heart flutter at seeing two shit heads get their asses kicked by a total hot stranger before.

M.M. then grabbed Kurt's head and gave three brutal head butts and dropped him fast.

* * *

Kurt clutched a bleeding nose and grippe Shiro's shoulder tightly for balance, "Man that really sucked, he fought better than Bruce Lee..."

Shiro nodded and grumbled, dragging his limping friend to the nurse.

* * *

Lance clutched his mallet lightly and watched the Michaels play the stupid game he had no idea existed until they made him make a damn court in his backyard. His mind still filled with violet eyes and sexy smirks

"God Lance, drool much? You were totally throwing yourself at the new kid," Michael Chandler drawled, making the other two laugh noisily.

Lance flushed and looked down at his ball, "Come on, I don't even know his name."

Michael rolled his eyes and knocked his ball, it rolled over to where Lance's mom was sitting and reading the newspaper.

"Watch out Ms. McClain!" Lance's mom stared at the ball for a few seconds, where it had harmlessly stopped in front of her, before sighing and picking it up.

Lance's mother was named Lorraine, and she was beautiful. Her skin the same bronze color as her son, a trait from being Cuban of course. Her eyes a beautiful ocean blue, another trait Lance inherited. She had long dark brown hair in massive curls she liked to wear down but put up in a bun when working. And she worked a lot. With six kids living in the small three bedroom house, only two of the six had jobs to help, she worked full-time at the hospital as a nurse and part-time as a maid at nearby hotel. Her husband had passed away from cancer after the youngest, Mariana, was born.

Lorraine knew Lance had made new "friends" but the first time the said friends came over, they made him make a court in the back yard, and he did it without complaint! To say she disproved of these boys was an understatement, but kept quiet when she saw the desperate look on her son's face.

"Here you go boys, you sure you don't want anything to drink? I just made some fresh lemonade."

Michael Chandler smiled, but disgust was clear in his eyes. "No thank you ma'am."

Lorraine bit her tongue before smiling once more, "So, any big plans for tonight?"

Lance nodded and sat his mallet down, "Yeah, there's a big homecoming party at Takashi Shirogane's house tonight. I'm gonna catch a ride with Michael."

Lorraine frowned and opened her mouth but was cut off, "Lance, you should get ready now. I'll be by in an hour to pick you up." Michael Chandler said, a bored look on his face.

"Wear the outfit I picked out." Lance nodded. Lorraine waved goodbye to the leaving Michaels and followed her son upstairs.

"Hijo, creo que no debes ir a esta fiesta esta noche." Lorraine muttered as Lance pulled out his clothes.

"Necesito hacer esta mamá." Lance whispered and smiled sadly at her.

"You have other friends. What about Hunk?"

Lance froze before shaking his head.

"Maybe I want more out of life than this mamá."

Lorraine sighed before pressing a kiss to her son's forehead, "No dejes que estos chicos te cambien hijo."

Lance grinned, "De ninguna manera mamá."

* * *

 **Translations: (( I used Google Translate, If these are incorrect I'm very sorry. I took French not Spanish. ))**

 **Hijo, creo que no debes ir a esta fiesta esta noche. - Son, I do not think you should go to this party tonight.**  
 **Necesito hacer esta mamá. - I need to do this mom.**  
 **No dejes que estos chicos te cambien hijo. - Do not let these guys change you son.**  
 **De ninguna manera mamá. - No way, Mom.**


	3. Chapter 3

_Dear Diary,_

 _I want to kill. And have to believe it's for more than just selfish reasons, more than just a spoke in my testosterone-induced mind._

 _You have to believe me. Oh Christ I can't explain it, but I'm allowed an understanding that my family and these Remington University assholes have chosen to ignore._

 _I understand that I must stop Michael. Katie Holt was a true friend and I sold her out for a bunch of swatch dogs and diet coke heads._

 _Killing Michael would be like offing the Wicked Witch of the West. Wait- East? WEST!_

 _God, I sound like a fucking psycho!_

 _Tomorrow I'll be kissing his aerobicized ass. But tonight, let me dream of a world without Michael, a world where I am free._

* * *

Lance stumbled to the door of the 7-ELEVEN, still not used to the strange heels Michael had forced him in.

"Lance! Don't forget to buy corn nuts! It's not a party without corn nuts!" Michael yelled out from his car window.

"BQ or plain?" Lance shouted back by the door.

"BQ!" Lance nodded and walked in.

Going to the snack aisle, Lance scanned the many bags of chips and snacks before finding the corn nuts and heading back up to the font.

The door chimed, stepping in was mystery man.

Mystery Man smirked at Lance and said, "Greeting and salutations. You gonna pull the super chug with that?" he pointed to corn nuts in Lance's hand.

Lance bit him lip and smirked back, "No, but If you're nice I'll let you buy me a slushie." He smiled at that.

"I see you know you convenience-speak pretty well." Lance commented, leaning against a nearby stand.

M.M. raised and eyebrow, "Yeah, well, I've been moved around all my life. Dallas, Baton Rouge, Vegas...Sherwood, Ohio. There's always been a Snappy Snack Shack. Any town, any time, pop a ham and cheese in the microwave and feast on a turbo dog. Keeps me sane." he tapped the side of his head lightly.

"Really?" Lance blinked, feeling a little sympathetic to the poor dude. Plucking a red Twizzler from a jar and nibbling on the end thoughtfully, Lance looked at him.

"That thing you pulled in the caf today was pretty severe."

M.M. sighed and leaned against the counter, "Yeah well, the extreme always seems to make an impression."

Lance smiled and bit into the Twizzler slightly. M.M. smirked, "Did you say a cherry or coke slushie?"

Lance smirked, "I didn't. Cherry."

M.M. smiled and filled up a cherry slushie while Lance watched, chewing on the Twizzler the whole time.

"I'm Lance by the way, are you ever going tell me yours?"

"I'll end the suspense. I'm Keith Kogane." he replied, turning around and handing Lance the drink.

"So what's a Baudelaire quoting, badass like you doing in Sherwood, Ohio?"

Keith shrugged, "My dad's work. He owns a deconstruction company."

Lance raised an eyebrow, "De-construction?"

"Yeah, the old man seems to enjoy tearing things down. You've seen the commercial? 'My name's Big Bud Kogane and if it's in your way, I'll make you day.'" Keith quoted, making his voice deeper and using a dirty hand gesture.

"Oh! And then he pushes the plunger and the screen blows up!" Lance chuckled then paused and looked at Keith apologetically, "Oh, that's your dad?"

Keith gave a tense smile, "In all his toxic glory."

Lance frowned and sipped his slushie, "Yeah, well everybody's life has got static."

A loud shrill car horn wails from outside and Michael Chandler's voice hollers fiercely.

"LANCE!"

Lance rubbed his temple in exasperation, "For example, I don't really like my friends."

Keith looked out the window at the giant red car of Michael Chandler were the other two sat as well. "Yeah I really don't like your friends either."

* * *

Lance whistled at the beautiful motorcycle parked out front. "Nice wheels."

Keith patted it lovingly, "Just a humble gift from old pops."

The car horn sounded loudly again, both guys flinched.

"You on your way somewhere?" Keith asked while lighting a cigarette.

"Yeah, a Takashi Shirogane homecoming party. Not the best thing to do, but If I wanna stay in gotta pay the price."

"Why not bag the party and hang out here?" Keith suggested blowing out a smoke ring that made Lance pretty impressed.

Lance smiled crookedly, "Ah. The 7-Eleven. Swanky first date."

Keith grinned, "Better than that."

"LANCE! CORN NUTS!"

Lance winced, and shook his head sadly. "Sadly I must go, the demon-king awaits."

"So I see."

"See you around?" Lance asked, hopeful.

Keith looked Lance up and down before doing a little side smirk that sent shivers up the Cuban boy's spine. "Oh, you'll definitely see me around. Just look in the shadows."

Keith waved and took off on his bike, Lance stared longingly before racing over to the red car and handing Michael his corn nuts.

"About time!"

* * *

Shiro and Kurt were messing around and going over what drinks and drugs they had for the party that night when their parents came in.

"Okay Shiro, have fun tonight but I expect you to act your age. If the neighbors complain about the noise, Paul and I are going to march in here and knock the sand out of your vagina. Do you understand me?"

"Dude what am I five?" Shiro grumbled, crossing his arms and looking away.

"I'm your dad not your dude."

"That goes double for you Kurt. You're a guest at Bill's house and you will treat it with respect!"

"Sure thing," Kurt said before looking at Shiro, "Dude!"

The two boy laughed and winced when their dad's glare.

"Hold his arms," Paul said.

"Wait! Dad no!"

The two boys tried to run but Shiro's dad already had Kurt in a headlock while Paul flicked his nose.

"Who's a great big sissy?! Who's going to prom in a bright pink dress?! Who's a great big sissy?!"

"I-I'm a great big sissy!" Kurt yelled out and was dropped to the floor.

"Have fun tonight son!" Paul said and slapped Kurt's ass.

The two boys started to get up when Bill throws out his fist at Shiro.

"Beware the claw!"

Shiro fell in shock making the two older men laugh loudly and leave.

"Man that sucked," Kurt grumbled and got up.

"Whatever man, let's just get this party started!"

* * *

The Shirogane house was lit up like it was the freaking Fourth of July.

Girls were running around topless, chased by guys who were pantless. Lance never thought he would see so many boobs in his whole life.

The Michaels were all with their partners, Kurt was actually making out with Michael McNamara and grinding and-

Okay looking away now.

The music was loud and rooms were filled with smoke from weed and cigarettes. Lance coughed a little before walking around to find some booze, better to just let go and worry later right?

Suddenly a hand wondered down and grabbed a handful of Lance's ass, making the poor teen shriek. A laughed boomed out of muscular chest.

"Lookin' fine tonight McClain!" the voice slurred before walking away.

Red colored the Cuban's face, someone had just groped him and said he looked fine.

Rushing over to the bar Lance picked up a shot glass of some brown drink he assumed was liquor, a slice of lime and some salt.

"So it's shot, and then lime- and then salt?" he mumbled before doing it in that order.

"No, it's salt-" Michael Duke started to explain before-

"You're doing it wrong!"

Lance blinked and smiled widely, "Really? cause I feel great!"

The night went on and Lance had more shots, done incorrectly every time, and was leaning heavily against someone he didn't know.

"Want a hit?"

Lance nodded and tried but ended up coughing furiously, a hand pounded on his back to help - but really it just hurt a lot.

Lance stumbled away, swaying slightly and saw two kids fucking harshly against a wall. He waved before stumbling into the living room where most of the party was. Shiro and Kurt brought out a giant pink pig piñata with a sign on it reading "Jefferson Razorbacks" on it.

"Alright everybody listen up! What is Westerberg going to do to the Razorbacks at Sunday's game?" Shiro shouted over the music.

Kurt snatched the piñata from Shiro and started fake thrusting into it. "Make em' go WHEE! WHEE! WHEE!"

Michael Duke rolled his eyes and walked by say "Way to show maturity!" Kurt dropped the pig and ran up to Duke and started grinding against him like he did the pig.

"Quit it jackass! Get off of me!" Lance stumble over to Kurt and shook his shoulder to get his attention.

Kurt let go of Michael and turned to Lance.

"Yo! Kurt! Emergency! I just saw some freshman trying to sneak over the pool fence."

Kurt glared at the pool outside.

"I hate freshman! Where are you, ya little pricks!" he shouted and ran outside.

Lance touched Michael's shoulder, "Hey are you okay?"

Duke shoved Lance away, "I didn't need your help!" he said and flipped Lance off.

Lance laughed drunkenly,"Aw, thanks for the finger Michael, but I don't really need to vomit right now." Lance giggled. "Get it?"

Duke flushed and stalked away from the giggling Lance.

Then out of the corner of his eye, Lance spotted Hunk and smiled. His best friend was here!

Hunk caught Lance when he stumbled over. "Hunk! I' missed you~!" Lance slurred and hanged off the confused Samoan.

"Lance? Are you drunk?!"

Lance grinned kissed Hunk's cheek messily. "Yep! It's great right?!"

Hunk looked worriedly at the small Cuban, Lance smiled. Hunk was so nice to be worried about him, but he felt great!

"I can't believe you actually came!" Lance said, hugging the tall guy.

Hunk smiled, "I know right? I bought Shiro some Sparkling Cider! I should find him and give it to him! But, will you be okay?" Hunk asked, looking at Lance who just gave him a thumbs up and a goofy smile.

"Go get cha' man gurl~!" Lance replied, not really knowing what was going on.

Hunk beamed and raced off to find him.

The Michaels looked at Hunk like vultures and whispered to each other before smirking and walking off. Hunk found Shiro across the room, leaning on a wall.

"H-Hey Shiro."

Shiro glanced over, saw the blushing teen, and turned away sharply, sipping his beer.

"I-I wasn't going to come, but since you took the time to write that note-"

"What note?" Shiro asked confused, Hunk faltered.

"O-Oh, um.." Hunk looked down and handed the bottle to Shiro who took it.

"You know if you acted normal, people wouldn't hate you so much."

He opened the bottle and look a drink only to spit it out.

"That's disgusting, are you trying to poison me?" Hunk whimpered and ran away, Shiro sighed and shook his head.

Meanwhile, Lance had climbed up on the kitchen counter and started doing multiple shots, soon a crowd surrounded him and cheered, Lance finished the last and jumped in the crowd, three guys caught him, people went wild. Lance felt a few wandering hand and giggled happily.

Then Michael Chandler came out to the center of the room, "Alright Westerbergers! It's time to celebrate our upcoming victory over the Razorbacks, by whacking apart their mascot!"

Kurt had reappeared in time to smack Michael's ass and yell, "Whack it!"

Michael McNamara walked out holding a baseball bat and a blindfold.

"We need a volunteer to take the first swing at the piñata!"

He slowly turned around, bat held out and pointing at people before stopping on Hunk.

"Hunk Garrett, I think you should do the honors."

Hunk blinked and shook his head, "I-I really don't know this game."

Lance blinked, finally aware of his surroundings and saw what was happening. He glanced at the other two Michaels and saw them smirking.

"Let's show this boy some Westerberg spirit!" they all began to chant Hunk name.

"HUNK! HUNK! HUNK!"

Hunk blushed under all the attention but took the green blindfold and wrapped it around his eyes.

"Bring out the piñata!" Michael Chandler yelled.

Michael Duke brought out the piñata but it now had a orange bandanna around the head and big funky glasses. The sign had also changed to "Hunk GAY-rett". Everyone immediately began laughing expect Lance.

"What are you doing?! Michael give it to me!" Lance grabbed the piñata and started to tug it out of Duke's hands.

"Michael help!" Duke cried trying to pull it back.

Michael Chandler grabbed Michael Duke's waist and had a tug-o-war with Lance, the crowd switched from calling out Hunk's name to "KISS! KISS! KISS!"

Lance managed to rip the piñata out of their hands.

"What's your damage Michael?" Lance asked furiously.

Lance walked outside, the crowd parting for him, he stopped at the edge of the pool. "You want this? Go swim for it!"

The crowd gasped, and Lance walked back inside to Hunk, who was now taking off his blindfold.

"What's going on?" Hunk whispered, taking in the silence and stares.

"Just go home and I'll explain it later." Lance said keeping his eyes on Hunk.

"But I was-"

"Listen to me, listen to me! Hunk, just go home okay?" Lance pleaded.

Hunk looked at the glaring faces and turned, running out of the house.

Lance slowly turned and looked at the furious face of Michael Chandler.

"Well, we gave it a shot. I'm resigning my commission from the Puto Squad. I'm going back to civilian life." Lance stated and headed out the door, stumbling outside away from everyone, his stomach had started to churn.

"Oh no you're not!" Michael Chandler hissed, grabbing Lance arm and spinning him around sharply, making Lance's stomach twist.

"Don't spin me. I'm not feeling well." Lance mumbled.

Michael grabbed Lane's face sharply.

"You don't get to be a nobody. Come Monday, you're an ex-nobody. Not even losers will touch you now! Transfer to Washington, Jefferson, no one at Westerberg will let you play their reindeer games."

Lance's head spun and opened his mouth to get fresh air, only to vomit all over Michael Chandler, who screamed in anger.

"AAAAHH! I RAISED YOU UP FROM NOTHING! AND WHAT'S MY THANKS? I GET PAID IN PUKE!"

Lance glared viciously at the fuming boy.

"Lick it up baby! Lick. It. Up."

Michael glared before his face turned cold, "I know who I'm eating lunch with on Monday, do you?"

Lance stared at him before running off down the street. Michael Chandler sneered before going back into the loud house.

* * *

Lance stumbled down an unknown street, think over what just happened in shock. It was over, the demon king himself had decreed it. Monday was the day he would be deleted from counted in his head found that he had at thirty hours to live, what should he do?

Walking past an empty park the Cuban boy thought of all the different ways he could survive this nuclear-holocaust sized mess he had gotten into. He could always change his name and ride up to Seattle.

Lance cursed remembering his lack of a vehicle when he spotted a familiar bike. Then slowly an idea came into his mind.

Stumbling into the yard, Lance walked around till he saw a giant tree close to the only window and climbed up the side. Slowly opening the window silently, Lance glanced inside and saw a sleeping figure. Trying to enter stealthfully, Lance's foot caught on the window edge and he fell the rest of the way in, causing a loud crash.

"L-Lance?! What are you doing in my room?" came the surprised voice of Keith Kogane, only in his black tee and red boxers. His hair slightly messy and he looked like he had been asleep. He stumbled over and helped the slightly-drunk boy up.

"Shh..." Lance whispered, pressing a finger against soft lips. "Sorry but I really had to wake you, I've decided I must ride you till you brake."

Keith's face flushed scarlet, but a hand started wandering up Lance's leg slowly. "Michael says I'm dead, you're my last meal on death row."

Keith opened his mouth, "Shut your mouth and loose the undies okay?" Lance said and shoved the boy backwards, making him fall on the bed.

Lance crawled on his lap, sitting there, his face red and lips hungry with desire. "C'mon."

"Lance..." Keith said looking awed at the sight of bronze skin glowing from moonlight.

"You're really beautiful y'know?" Lance mumbled, a thumb stoking Keith lips lightly, Keith blinked and gazed at Lance. "You're skin is smooth and you're eyes are gorgeous. It's amazing."

Keith leaned up and kissed Lance softly, who moaned and held Keith face gently.

"The world's unfair. So let's stay here where's beautiful." Lance mumbled against the other's lips.

Keith smirked, "That works for me."

* * *

 **That moment you can't write a detailed sex scene.**


	4. Chapter 4

Lance blinked slowly and sat up. He was laying on an unknown bed, covered only with a thin sheet, naked he realized.

A chuckle startled him to look up.

Michel Chandler leaned against the nightstand by the bed, dressed in a completely blood-red suit, smirking at the Cuban viciously.

"Hello slut."

Lance's face went deadly pale. "M-Michael?! How did you get in here?!"

"I'm like oxygen, I'm everywhere. By the way, really Lance? Sleeping with psycho-trench coat kid. I will crucify you for this!" Michael practically cackled.

"Everyone in school is going to know that good little Lance McClain is nothing but a dirty little whore."

Lance clutched handfuls of the bed sheets, tears falling fast down his face. "Michael...why are you doing this? Why the fuck are you so determined to hurt me?!"

Michael cocked his head to the side, putting a finger on his chin like he was thinking it over, "Because I can, and you make it so easy! 'Please make the big bad kids stop picking on me!'"

Michael cackled continuously as Lance clutched his head and and squeezed his eyes shut and screamed.

"Lance? LANCE!" a new voice shouted and a hand started to shake him roughly.

Lance stopped screaming and opened his eyes quickly, looking around before settling them on a very worried Keith.

"W-What?" Lance croaked.

"Jesus, you're soaking wet!" Keith exclaimed before wiping away the sweat on Lance's face carefully.

"O-Oh, it was just a dream..." Lance sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his aching temple.

Lance quickly got up from the warm bed and searched for his discarded clothes, blushing a dark red from Keith's obvious stare.

"What's the rush?" he asked, also pulling on his discarded t-shirt and boxers. Lance flushed and pulled on his pants.

"I've got to head over to Michael's house." He muttered, searching frantically for his shirt. Keith looked at him in bewilderment.

"What? I though you said you were done with him?"

Lance, finally finding his shirt, bit his lip and shook slightly.

"Yeah, and it was a sweet fantasy, a world without Michael. A world where everyone is free. But now it's time to wake up and face the music. I'll never be able to go back to school without his forgiveness. If I don't apologize, I'm done." Lance whimpered, holding himself tightly.

"You don't have to-" Keith started.

"Yes I do! I...I'm not strong like you..." Lance whispered, looking down.

The bedroom was filled with a heavy silence for a few minutes before Keith sighed and pulled on a pair of black jeans, Lance looked at him confused.

"Then I'm coming with you." he said, no room for debate.

"You don't have to..." Lance said, looking at other. Keith rolled his eyes and smiled at the Cuban fondly.

"I want to."

Lance looked at him astonished, but smiled and nodded, "Okay, thank you."

Keith came up and hugged the other teen tightly, kissing him softly. Lance giggled softly, before pulling back and smirking.

"By the way, you were my first."

* * *

The medium-sized manor house that was Michael Chandler's was quiet. was at work and was out, probably seeing her boyfriend. And Michael himself was in his bedroom, with a massive hangover.

"Michael? ...Michael?" Lance shouted from he bottom of his staircase.

"What?!" an annoyed voice yelled back, Lance gulped.

"It's Lance. I've come to apologize!"

A laugh, then groan of pain. "I hope you brought knee pads, Fix me a prairie oyster and I'll think about it!"

Lance nodded and headed to the large kitchen, Keith trailing behind, taking in the massive furniture and whistled.

Opening various cabinets, Lance muttered to himself, "Prairie oyster, what's in that?"

Keith handled Lance a cup, "Thank you. Um.. okay, raw egg, vinegar, -"

"-Hot sauce, Worcestershire sauce, tomato juice, salt and pepper." Keith finished, pulling out the ingredients he listed. Lance cocked an eyebrow at him.

"You sure know your hangover cures huh?"

"My dad trained me well." Keith commented and mixed the drink together.

Lance nodded before laughing, "Here's my revenge, I'll hock a loogie in his drink and he'll never know." Lance began to clear his throat making various gross noises, Keith laughed and joined in before they both spat the disgusting substance in the drink and mixed it in.

They both looked at it before Lance scrunched up his nose, "Ew."

Keith looked through the cabinets before pulling out a clean container of blue drain fluid.

"I'm a no rust build up man myself." Keith said, wiggling the bottle at Lance who frowned but laughed.

"Don't be a dick, that stuff will kill him."

"Thus ending his hangover, I say we go with big blue." he poured the blue liquid into a clear cup and held it up admiringly. Lance now looked around cautiously.

"He's never drink anything that looks like that anyways." Lance said.

Keith paused then nodded, "You're right," he almost dumped it before stopping.

"We'll put it in a mug, he won't have any idea what he's drinking." he poured it into a mug, similar to the loogie mixed cocktail one.

"Forget it." Lance said, not laughing anymore. Keith chuckled.

"Oh come on, chicken! Bawk bawk bawk!" Keith made various chicken noises before Lance scowled unamused.

"You're not funny." Lance said, stepping away slightly, Keith frowned and set down his cup next to the other.

"Hey, it was just a joke. I'm sorry." Keith kissed Lance who melted and kissed back.

"PRAIRIE OYSTER! CHOP, CHOP!" Michael's voice boomed from upstairs, Lance sighed slightly.

"Coming Michael!" Lance picked up one of the cup and turned towards the doorway.

"Lance you just-" Keith started but stopped. Lance turned to him.

"What?" Lance smiled at him. Kith blinked before shaking his head.

"Never mind."

"Okay!" Lance chirped back and they headed upstairs to the demon's room.

Michael was laying on his bed, his room a mess. Dirty clothes strewn across the floor and the dresser covered in make-up. Lance could just hear his mamá yelling at this boy in the back of his head.

"Recoge esa ropa, idiota, y limpia este desastre, ¡parece que vive un cerdo aquí!"

Michael groaned and looked up from where he had his face smashed into a pillow, his normally perfect coco skin was looking rather haggered with bag under his eyes and bloodshot eyes. Lance did not feel guilty for having a sick satisfaction of looking better than him.

"Good morning Michael." Lance said, holding the mug tightly in his hand.

Michael sneered at them both, "Aw Lance, and Jesse James, quelle surprise. Let's get to it. Beg." Michael said, really demanded.

Lance faltered a bit before nodding, "Um, okay. I think we both said a lot of things that we didn't really mean-"

"Oh, I would actually prefer if you did this on your knees. In front of your boy toy there." Michael interrupted, smirking at Lance's flinch and Keith's glare.

Lance bit his lip, "Okay, anyways. I'm really sorry."

Michael narrowed his eyes, "Do I look like I'm kidding? Ha ha. Down."

Lance trembled slightly and glances at Keith who is staring down Michael like a predator. Lance slowly get down on his knees. Michael smirked and plucked the cup from Lance's hands.

"That's better, but you're still dead to me." he thin took three big gulps from the mug, finishing it.

Michael frowned and started to gag, and dropped the mug, it shattered loudly. He put down hands to his throat and gasped and gagged, his face going very pale as he struggled to breath. Lance had shot up and looked at Michael in horror. Michael gripped Lance's arm and hissed two words at him.

"C-CORN..NUTS..!" He then fell backwards into his glass table, making the glass break loudly. he didn't move after that.

Keith looked at Michael's corpse and cried out one word to sum it all up, "SHIT!"

Lance snapped his head to Keith in horror, "Oh my god! OH MY GOD! D-Don't just stand there! CALL 911!" he cried, clutching his head. Keith shook his head slowly, his mind still reeling from what just happened.

"It's a bit late for that."

Lance turned and looked at the still body Michael Chandler, "Michael? Michael?! I-I just killed my best friend!"

"And worst enemy." Keith commented.

"Same difference! The police are going to think that I did this on purpose! They're gonna have to send my SAT score to Guantanamo Bay!" Lance cried and sat down heavily on the stool by the dresser, holding his face in despair.

"Unless.." Keith looked around the bedroom then spotted something, "look, she was reading The Bell Jar." Lance just shook his head, still covering his face.

"Oh no..." Lance moaned. Keith forced a pen and piece of paper into the Cuban's hand.

"Oh yes, you can fake her hand writing right? Make her sound deep. Something like this: 'You might think what I've done is shocking. To me though, suicide is the natural answer to the myriad of problems life has given me.'" Lance nodded then frowned.

"That's good, but Heather would never use the word myriad."

"This is the last thing she's ever gonna write, she's going to want to cash in on as many fifty cent words as possible." Keith said, Lance bit his lip harshly.

"Yeah but she missed myriad on the vocab test two weeks ago." Lance argued, Keith blinked dumbly at him.

"Why do you- never mind, that just proves my point more. The word is a badge for her failures at school.

Lance frowned and looked back at the paper. "Oh yeah, you're probably right...Um, 'People think just because you're beautiful and popular, life is easy and fun.'" Keith nodded.

Lance bit on the pen edge, "'No one understood that I had feelings too.'" Lance looked at Keith who looked at the paper before looking at him. "'I die knowing no one knew the real me.'"

Writing down the last bit of the note, Lance just stared at it, his vision a little out of focus. Keith grabbed Lance's hands and pulled him away from the note and looked at him worriedly.

"Are you okay?"

"I...I don't know." Keith nodded and hugged the teen tightly.

* * *

At the school, the staff sat around a table trying to figure out how to deal with the situation.

Allura Altean had her hands tucked under her chin and a deadly serious face on, it made the other staff members nervous.

"Michael Chandler is not your everyday suicide. She was very popular." Allura stated.

Coach Ripper sighed heavily, "Look Allura, if you let these kids out before lunch, the switchboard would light up like a Christmas tree."

"I must say, I was impressed to see that she made proper use of the word myriad in her suicide note." commented an English teacher from the left corner, smoking a cigarette. Then two hands slammed down on the table, no one jumped as this was a common thing to happen.

"I find it profoundly disturbing that we're told of the tragic destruction of youth, and all we can thin to talk about is adequate mourning times and misused vocabulary words?" Coran, the guidance counselor, was known to be very dramatic and expressive to the point of being annoying. But he had a point.

"Oh Christ." a voice grumbled, making the red-head twitch and glare. "We must revel in this revealing moment! Look, I suggest that we get everybody together, both students and teachers, in the cafeteria and just talk about what happened...together."

It was quiet, then: "Thank you, Mr. Quiznak, you call me when the shuttle lands." a few chuckles made Coran glared viciously but sit down and look away, pouting.

"Is this Michael the...cheerleader?"

Allura sighed heavily, "No, that would be Michael McNamara."

* * *

Lance leaned back against one of the metal lockers in the locker room as Michael McNamara dressed back into his regular clothes after gym. Michael Duke sat in front of them chowing down on a chicken leg that made Lance consider KFC for dinner later.

"God, It's unfair." Michael McNamara said, pulling his shirt over his head, "it's just so unfair. We should get off a whole week, not just an hour." Lance fiddled with his shirt.

"Write the school board," Michael Duke said between bites.

Lance glared at them, "Watch it Michael, you might actually be digesting food there."

"Yeah, where's your urge to purge?' Michael McNamara asked.

"Fuck it." Michael Duke said, throwing a chicken bone behind him, Lance watched it splat on the ground noisily.

"Look! Michael left behind one of his wrist bands." Michael McNamara said, pulling out a bright red rubber wristband with white stripes. Michael looked at it before tossing it to Lance, who caught it surprise.

"He'd want you to have it Lance, he always said you couldn't accessorize for shit." Lance looked at the red band thoughtfully.

"Sorry to hear about your friend," said a voice behind Lance, making him jump and see some guy in an army green jacket, messy brown hair and small black circle sunglasses right beside him, "though he was your usual airhead dick. Guess I was wrong. We all were." the guy then look off his glasses and pushed them on Lance's face and walked off.

"What a waste," Michael Duke said and threw away his empty chick box. Lance walked into the open showers, wristband now on.

Both Michaels looked at each other confused as Lance turned on the showers and stood under it, still dressed and holding onto the wristband, sunglasses slipping a little.

"Lance?" Michael McNamara asked, confused, "what are you doing?"

Lance looked up at the ugly blue tile ceiling and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths.

* * *

Miss Jackson, an English teacher, walked around the classroom, clutching a paper in his hand.

"I'm just so thrilled to finally have an example of the profound sensitivity of which a human animal is capable."

Lance sat in the pile of bean bags at the back of the classroom, now dry after his momentary freak out.

"That example is Michael Chandler." Lance rolled his eyes.

"I have his note," Miss Jackson confessed. The classroom gasped, Lance's eyes widened, was that legal?

"Now, I'm going to pass this note around the class so you can all feel it's pathetic beauty for yourself." Lance gaped at this audacity of this woman to pass around a suicide note, what the fuck?!

She tossed the note to a random kid, "And while we do this, I feel the need for everybody to share how this suicide makes you all feel. Now, who would like to begin?"

A few kids spoke about some stupid shit that didn't happen, Michael wouldn't have looked at them unless they had something to offer or to verbally shank them.

Lance couldn't contain the laugh he let out, so when the class turned to look at him he quickly covered it with a fake sob and clutched his face like he was hiding tears.

* * *

 _ **"At a time like this, negative people choose to focus on their grief. Well I hate those people. Because I am a very positive person, I remember the good times like when Michael and I got our ears pierced-"**_

Keith changed the channel, Michael Duke disappeared.

 _ **"-I can still hear all those late night phone calls-"**_

Another channel change.

 _ **"The day he won that stuffed rhino at the 4h fair he turned to me and said 'you are my soulmate'-"**_

"Jesus Michael how many stations did you run to?" Lance said, Keith rolled his eyes and turned off his television, leaning back on the living room couch at Keith's place.

"Michael Chandler's more popular than ever now." Keith commented, Lance rested his head on Keith's shoulder, who wrapped an arm around the other in comfort.

Suddenly a man stepped into the living room, Lance recognized him as 'Big Bud Kogane', Keith dad. Lance recognized that he was an attractive man, he had Keith's eyes and looked like an older version of his boyfriend. Mr. Kogane paused seeing the two and smiled at them.

"Why son, I didn't hear you come in." Keith remarked.

"Yeah pop," Lance was taken back at the slight southern accent, "I want to introduce you to my new boyfriend."

Lance paused then got up and reached out to shake Mr. Kogane's hand. "Sorry, hello the name's Lance."

Mr. Kogane didn't even pause, just slipped a hidden beer into Lance's open hand. "Drink up cutie."

Lance blinked at it, "It's a little early." Keith came up from behind Lance and took the bottle and handed it back to his father.

"You know the rules son, no underage drinking in this house." Keith said jokingly, but his smile was tense and a dark look lingered in his eyes.

"Oh?" Mr. Kogane mused looking at Keith then Lance, "So you're a good boy eh?" Lance blushed and looked away.

"I- uh.."

"Lance was just leaving." Keith said, smile gone, looking flatly at his father.

"Relax, I'm just having some fun. Sit, sit." Mr. Kogane sat down on the couch and motioned for the other two to sit as well, Lance glanced at Keith who glared before going to sit, Lance sat beside him closely.

"Work was a real pain in the ass today. Some damn tribe of withered old bitches is trying to stop my poor old dad from blowing up this fleabag motel, all because Glenn Miller and his band once took a shit there. Just like Kansas. You remember Kansas?"

"Yeah."

"The save the memorial oak society. My pop showed those tree humpers. Thirty bricks of C4 explosives stuck to a trunk. He was-"

"Arranged but acquitted." Keith and his dad said at the same time. Mr. Kogane laughed loudly, even slapping his knee, while Keith's face was pure stone.

"Goddamn Kansas." Keith muttered.

"Hell of a time, hell of a time." Mr. Kogane stared at Lance, in a very creepy manner before smiling at Keith. "So pop, can I invite my boyfriend over for supper?"

"I don't think that's such a good idea son." Keith said, now a bit of anger seeping into his voice.

"Come on pop, don't be a square." Mr. Kogane said, if he knew Keith was angry he didn't give it away.

The tension was so thick, Lance felt like he could actually cut it with a knife. He stood up quickly and smiled awkwardly at the two.

"I appreciate the offer, but I gotta go. My mamá is making my favorite tonight, Arroz can pollo."

"Nice. You know, the last time I saw my mom, she was waving out a library window in Texas. Right, dad?" Keith said, looking at Lance the entire time, but Mr. Kogane had stopped smiling and stared at Keith intensely.

"Right, son."

Lance chuckled nervously and waved at Keith, "Okay, well see you tomorrow."

Lance quickly went home.

* * *

 _Dear Diary,_

 _Keith's dad will NOT be speaking at our wedding._

* * *

 **Recoge esa ropa, idiota, y limpia este desastre, ¡parece que vive un cerdo aquí! - Pick up those clothes, idiot, and clean this mess, it looks like a pig lives here!**


	5. Chapter 5

"I blame not Michael, but rather a society that tells its youth that the answers can be found in MTV video games."

Lance sat next to Keith, who was hiding his small gin well, and starred at the preacher in bewilderment.

"We must pray that the other teenagers of Sherwood, Ohio, know the name of the righteous dude who can solve their problems...It's Jesus Christ. And he's in the book."

Keith and Lance looked at each other and raised an eyebrow in unison.

"Amen."

* * *

Lance slowly walked up to Michael Chandler's coffin.

His cocoa brown skin was now waxy in appearance and someone had done a bad job at his makeup, oh well.

Lance sighed and sank to his knees, clasping his hands in prayer.

 _Hi, I'm sorry. Technically I did not kill Michael Chandler, but hey, who am I trying to kid, right? I just want my high school to be a nice place...Amen._

 _...did that sound bitchy?_

* * *

Michael McNamara dabbed his fingers into the bowl of holy water in the church entrance. He quickly used it to fix his hair so it stood in perfect place. He blinked a few times and noticed Lance in font of him.

"Lance! What are you doing tonight?" he asked, smiling brightly as usual. Lance blinked before shrugging.

"I don't know. Mourning, I guess. Maybe watch some TV. Why?" He questioned as they both walked out the church doors together.

"Well, Kurt asked me out tonight, but he wants to double with Shiro, and Shiro doesn't have a date." Lance frowned.

"Micheal, I have something going with Keith."

"Please, Lance, put Charles Manson on hold tonight. I'll be your best friend."

And while Lance didn't appreciate the comparison of his boyfriend to a serial killer, he couldn't say no to the puppy dog eyes Michael was giving him.

* * *

"So we on tonight man or what?" Kurt asked Shiro, as he loosened his tie around his neck slightly.

"I don't know..." Shiro trailed off, uncomfortable.

"Come on man, I know you've been moody lately-"

"I have not!"

"-So just do this with me. I bet Michael told Lance, and I know you got a little bit of interest in him."

Shiro blushed but looked away, just in time to dodge some incoming people exiting the church. Kurt wasn't so lucky.

"That shit-head just stepped on my foot! Let's kick his ass-!"

"Cool off, we're seniors." Shiro stated, rolling his eyes at his melodramatic friend.

Kurt scowled, "You goddamn geek!"

Two guys turned around and sneered at them, "Ah, well, eat shit and die." one said and gave them the bird, the other looked at him like he was crazy.

Kurt turned to Shiro with a blank face, "Hold his arms."

* * *

Lance listened to Michael tell him how Kurt had been real sweet to him lately, consoling him and stuff. They turned the corner to see Shiro twisting the arms of some poor kid while Kurt made him say embarrassing things and slugging him when he refused.

"Real sweet huh?" Lance droned, Michael smiled sheepishly.

"Well, whatever. Fine, as long as it's not one of those nights where they take us to some pasture to tip cows." Michael shook his head in a negative.

* * *

Michael stood next to a pissed off Cuban as they watched the two senior boys giggling next to a cow.

"Is it sleeping dude?" Shiro asked.

"I think so man."

They giggled again as Lance rolled his eyes.

The fist bumped, then counted to three.

"One...two...three!" They shoved the poor startled beast over and effectively tipped it...right into a giant puddle.

A huge glob of mud smacked right into Lance and Michael's face. Lance furiously wiped it away while Michael just closed his eyes and breathed deeply. The two boys howled with laughter, they then pointed at their two mud-covered dates and laughed harder.

* * *

Kurt and Michael rolled around on the wet grass, making out roughly and quickly heading towards sex. Lance was quick to packed up his stuff and started to leave, a drunk Shiro trailing after him, mumbling about needing him.

"Yeah right asshole." Lance hissed and hopped over a fence, Shiro groaned and attempted to get over as well. Lance sighed and leaned against a tree. He never wanted to double date with Michael as a favor ever again.

"What is this shit?" a voice hissed, Lance snapped his head up.

Keith stood at the top of a hill, a thunderous expression on his face, cigarette in one hand. Lance wiped off more mud and shrugged helplessly.

"Doing a favor for Michael, double date, I tried to tell you at the funeral but you rode off..." Keith shook his head and took a drag of his cigarette.

"Another fucking Michael...sorry, I'm just feeling a little superior tonight." Lance looked at him confused.

"Seven schools in seven states and the only thing different is my locker combination." Lance sighed slightly then walked towards his boyfriend.

"Our love is God, let's go get a slushie." Keith held out his hand to the Cuban.

Lance smiled, and grabbed it, kissing his boyfriend before putting on a helmet and wrapping his arms around Keith waist as they rode off.


End file.
